Nothing's Perfect
by Infamouspirate10
Summary: Working title Anne Reynolds husband was 'killed' by Jack Sparrow, and Norrington wants to go after Jack and the Pearl to avenge Mister Reynolds. Jack appears in Port Royale though and Anne is forced to choose between passion and security.
1. Unwelcome Suprises

Author's note: Okay, so I figured I'd attempt writing fanfiction again. As of right now I'm actually really happy with this one. Reviews are welcomed, especially good ones.

Disclaimer: I'd love to own some really nice warmblood horses, train with an Olympic rider, and live in Wellington, but I'm not a millionaire. Thus, proving that I own nothing in the movie. The only thing I own is an extreme case of boredom, a keyboard, and Claire. Not much, eh?

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"May I speak to you for a moment outside, Mistress Reynolds?" A young man said from behind the auburn haired woman.

"Of course you may," she said setting down her wine glass. "Give me one moment."

She kneeled next to her son sitting in the chair next to her who had remained silent through the entire event and was therefore permitted by all of the other adults to stay at the table. "Stay here, and quiet while I go talk to this kind gentleman outside." From there she stood up, and took the liberty of excusing herself from the table.

She appeared a few moments later through the open doors that led to the balcony. She enjoyed coming out on this particular balcony as she had an unobstructed view of the ocean, but for some odd reason standing out on the Balcony under the stars on this particular night she had an unsettling feeling, that she couldn't say she appreciated much.

"Mistress Reynolds," The man begun. "Brace yourself for what I'm about to tell you." He inhaled quickly. "Your husband is no longer with us. His ship was attacked by pirates and sunk, what we assume was a couple of hours later. Only a few men survived the ordeal, they were put into one of the smaller boats and sent off, and were picked up by another merchant ship, by luck. The ship's captain was kind enough to drop the men off here." He took another breath. "They say that's what your husband asked them to do."

"D-did they say wh-what ship caused them to-to, go down?" She said breaking down into tears at the last words, despite her efforts to keep them bottled up inside of her.

"Yes, Ma'am; the Black Pearl." And with that he put a comforting hand on top of hers. "I'm sorry," he said going inside to give her a moment alone.

Anne wiped away the tears falling out of her hazel colored eyes, finding it unfair that it had to be her husband who died. They were good practicing Christians, they had a son, were part of good society, and George had never done anything to hurt anyone except for in self-defense. She shook her head; she always knew she'd hear those words one day.

After a few heart breaking moments, she walked inside with tears still running down her cheeks. She wiped them off as she sat down in her seat, as though nothing had happened. Her arm went around her son's shoulder and she kissed the top of his head, before picking up her wine glass and swishing around the red liquid that filled it.

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James watched Anne as she walked into the room with the tears in her eyes; it wasn't like her to cry. He had only seen her cry one other time, and that was at the funeral of her late son. Which defiantly set off warning signals in his mind, he wondered if anyone else in the room saw or cared that Anne's usually rosy cheeks were now incredibly pale and had tears rolling down them in a rhythmic fashion.

He stood up, and walked around the table to where she was, and placed a hand on her shoulder. He leaned down just enough to be at her ear level and said, "Mistress Reynolds, would you like to tell me what is going on?"

Anne shook her head, but she stood up and walked James out onto the balcony where she had just heard the news that broke her heart. "George's," She started, making James feel awkward she never addressed Mister Reynolds in public by his first name. "Ship was sunk, by Pirates on his route." And with that more tears burst out of her eyes.

"Oh, Mistress Reynolds," James said as he put his arms around her in a comforting hug. "This is why I wish all pirates to go to the deepest pits of hell." He could feel her whole body shaking from grief under his arms. This wasn't fair to her.

The usually powerful woman felt so small and frail under his arms, even though she was barley an inch shorter and she ate every meal of the day, she felt hardly a foot tall and hardly a pound heavy. He wasn't sure if this was a safe time to ask if she knew which ship had caused her such pain, but he swore to himself that he would find that ship and avenge Mister Reynolds, who did happen to be one of the Commodore's good friends. "By whom, may I inquire, providing you know?"

After another short burst of tears she said in a weak voice, "The Black Pearl."

The name made James freeze, and his mouth dropped open. No matter how much he disapproved of Jack Sparrow's pirating ways he had earned the Commodore's respect. There was no way that Jack Sparrow would have sunk a ship, intentionally, even if it was richly loaded. Or would he? After all Jack Sparrow was still a pirate. "I will find the Black Pearl, Mistress Reynolds I promise."

After he felt her arms rise up and sink back down one last time he broke away from their embrace. She seemed to be doing a little better; new tears had stopped forming and now the old tears were just finishing their path down her cheeks. "Are you going to be alright, Mistress Reynolds?" James asked her.

"Yes, thank you Commodore, I shall feel better soon," She paused. "That is if you promise me something.." James looked at her confused what would she want him to do for her?

What Anne said next nearly knocked him off his feet. "You're taking me with you when you go after the Black Pearl."

James shook his head. "I absolutely will not do such a thing, Mistress Reynolds!" He was concerned for her safety; a pirate hunt was no place for a woman, especially not a woman like Miss Reynolds. "I will not risk your life on such a thing."

The Commodore made a move to walk off, but she got a hold on his arms near his elbows. He was shocked by how strong she was, he couldn't simply shake her grip and for some odd reason he got the impression that she was not using all of her strength to keep him there either. "Please, Commodore Norrington, do this for me.."

"We shall see, Mistress Reynolds." The Commodore said giving in; he knew he'd regret his words. "It would not be very appropriate to bring you along, and very dangerous. The ocean is not a place for a woman." He felt her grip on his arms tighten, and then loosen quickly. She appeared to be sorry at how tightly she had just squeezed his arms. This was not the attitude he wanted on his ship, someone being sorry for squeezing his arm, what they considered, was too tightly.

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If only James knew why Anne had really let go of his arms so fast, he never would have guessed the real reason and she was alright with that. "Thank you, Commodore." She said as she walked back into the room in a slightly lighter mood. She sat down at her seat, swirled her wine in its glass once more, and drank the entire glass in one swift movement. A servant filled her glass up for her, and she set that glass down and waited for a better opportunity to drink it.

She watched James out of the corner of her eye as she talked to her son, Jackson. He walked in slowly, and sat back down, and throughout the duration of the evening his eyes always found their way to her.


	2. Coffee and Whiskey

Author's Note: Just for clarification because I've been asked by several people about why I give Anne the title of Mistress when she is or was not cheating on George, and she owns no slaves only servants. It's because "Mistress" is a courtesy title. The dictionary's definition of mistress (the appropriate definition, since there are several) is, used formerly as a courtesy title when speaking to or of a woman. Although in theory she could be called "Mistress" by her servants because it also means a woman who employs or supervises servants.

Just a little vocabulary lesson there.

Disclaimer: -looks around for a Hanoverian and only sees her Quarter Horse- Nope, not rich yet. Don't own it.

--

The next morning Anne had decided to sit out on her favorite balcony while, reading, and drinking her customary morning drink, coffee with whiskey. Her eyes burned from the hours she had spent crying last night. "It's already an old wound…" She thought to herself as she looked up from her book taking another look at the turbulent waters.

"Mistress Reynolds," One of her house servants said. "Commodore Norrington is here."

"You may tell him to come ou-" But before she could finish her sentence the Commodore appeared in the doorway out to the balcony.

"Good Morning, Mistress Reynolds." James said as he walked over to greet her. He bowed, but she only nodded in her seat not wishing to stand up. James looked at her uncomfortably she was still in her night wear. "Erm, I'm sorry I did not know that you-"

"Oh shush Commodore and take a seat," she said curtly gesturing to the seat that her son had insisted on sitting in earlier only to leave in favor of playing with his carved toys.

James was surprised at the way she had spoken, just last night on this same porch she could barley speak, and she looked so frail. But now she was sitting in front of him and hardly looked frail at all. Her auburn hair was as straight as a board, obviously it hadn't been done up yet in its usual bun. She had a silver chain hanging around her neck which held finely made Silver cross with a few very small rubies inlayed in it. He guessed some amazing Spanish silversmith had made it, and it cost her quite a lot.

She looked almost angelic sitting in front of him, with such a calm and peaceful exterior. It was looking at her that he realized how old she must have been, she appeared to be nearing thirty-five, around the same age as him. But when she was laughing merrily, she looked like she was hardly thirty. But now here eyes betrayed that thought, she was defiantly closer to thirty-five.

"How are you doing?" He asked after a moment.

"It's nothing that a little coffee and whiskey won't eventually fix." She said taking another sip of the black liquid she had in her cup. She always was a bit of a drinker, but always knew when she had to stop.

The Commodore gave her a disapproving look, perhaps they only time he had ever looked at Anne that way. "Mistress Reynolds, you can't drink your problems away." He commented wanting to take the beautifully painted china out of her hand and dumping the liquid over the side.

"But it certainly does help." She said with a wry smirk, before taking another sip of the coffee.

James glared at her again. "Well in other news, we may just be able to accommodate your request." He sighed, why did he have to tell her? Now he knew her heart would be set on this. "I wouldn't do it for just anybody Mistress Reynolds, but you cared about George so much and I doubt you can cause too many problems as long as you swear to listen to me and my men and do as you're told."

All of Anne seemed to perk up at that, her already straight back straightened even more and her eyes flashed with joy. "Really, Commodore?"

"Yes, Mistress Reynolds," James said. "But you must keep in mind that it will be a lot harder on us, and your quality of life will certainly go down for while at sea. We will do our best to accommodate and keep you comfortable, but not go out of our way. You will be permitted to sleep in the captain's quarters, as I am captaining this mission, and I will sleep with the rest of the crew." James smirked to himself at the thought they weren't all happy with this proposal. "I don't see why you wish to come along because almost the entire time you will be asked to stay in there for safety reasons."

After a few more moments of the Commodore's talk she rolled her eyes. "For some odd reason I think I can manage this Commodore." She looked down at her almost empty cup of coffee.

"What are you an expert on ocean travel?" He asked, her lack of respect irritating him slightly. She was never like this in public, she was always, or at least James thought she was always so kind he had never seen this edgier side of her.

She finished off the coffee. "I've been on a ship more than once," She said with a smile that only George would have been able to identify its true meaning; that it was her secret and she would indulge you in the information whenever she deemed appropriate.

James nodded. "Just out of curiosity," He asked. "How do you plan on raising a small boy all by yourself without your husband's guidance?

Anne stood up keeping her place with her finger in-between the pages of her book. She put the china cup on her seat, and looked at her book memorizing the page she was it. Looking him dead in the eye she said, "The same way I always have, he's never told me how to raise our children. He was hardly ever here anyways." And with that she snapped the book shut. "Now, I bid you a good morning Commodore, I'm going to get ready for the day. But if you feel the need I'll be down at the beach with Jackson later this afternoon." And with that she went off.


	3. A Wise Woman Indeed

Author's note: I know it's kind of draggy right now, but there is a reason all their talking sets up what happens. Next chapter some pretty obvious things are about to be confirmed, and at least the start of the explanation as to what happened to Mister Reynolds.

Disclaimer: A mouse is richer than me, now that's just sad.

--

James' meeting with Anne had certainly rocked him slightly, especially with her last words. She was a powerful woman indeed, he thought to himself. A bit like the soon to be Mistress Turner, he wondered how well the two knew each other. They were always at the same events, but Elizabeth was younger than Anne and he hadn't really ever seen the two speak more than a casual word to one another.

He was walking along the beach wondering where Anne could possibly be hiding, the beach was entirely flat and it was a crisp clear day. Then he heard the splashing sound of Jackson swishing around water in a tide pool. He smiled slightly, the boy's sleeves were rolled up and he was holding a starfish. He was poking it with his free hand watching it wriggle.

James knelt down beside the boy, looking into the tide pool. "What do you have there Jackson?"

Jackson prodded the creature once more, "a starfish." Jackson set the creature back into the tide pool. "Mama said that if I take them out of the water for too long they'll die."

James nodded. "Your mother is a very wise woman, Jackson." He looked into the tide pool again only to find that the starfish had buried itself back under the sand. "Is she a good mother?" James had no clue where that came from, it just slipped out of his mouth.

"She's the best," Jackson said grinning from ear to ear, causing James to smile also.

"Can you tell me where she is, Jackson?" The Commodore asked the boy. She had to be close by; he did know that Anne would never let Jackson out of her sight. She was probably watching the two of them talk at the moment.

Jackson pointed to where she was. "Right there, Mister Commodore." James chuckled to himself at the title.

"Thank you, and it's just Commodore." He said standing up walking toward Anne who sure enough had been watching the two the entire time from what he could tell. She smiled slightly, and without closing her book she put it down so the pages were touching the sand.

James wondered if that's all she did was read. Then again he could have sworn that he saw her cross stitching one day, but he couldn't recall seeing her cross stitch any other time. "Good afternoon, Mistress Reynolds." He said sitting down next to her on the sand.

"Good Afternoon, Commodore." She said resting her arms on her knees which she had drawn to her body.

James caught sight of her ankles and quickly averted his gaze. She wasn't wearing any stockings, and her shoes were sitting next to her in the sand.

Anne seemed to notice this and smiled. "The sand gets caught in the fibers of the silk. Don't worry about it Commodore, it does not offend me and it should not offend you."

How did she know that? James thought to himself. Yes, she was indeed very wise for knowing that's why he averted gaze. There was something he had realized in just the two times he had seen her separated from a crowd though, she was not as proper as she could be. Perhaps, her parents were more open than most, or maybe she had just formed her own ideas along the way. Not that James was protesting it did not make her any less of a person in his eyes. "Where did you say you were from, Mistress Reynolds? Before you came to Port Royale that is."

She looked at him with a suspicious look on her face. "England." She answered plainly. "I married George there, and we traveled from place to place before finally deciding to settle down here in Port Royale."

James looked at her confused; traveling wasn't common for people who weren't sailors. He could understand George traveling around, as he was a merchant who owned several ships that held his goods and captained one of them. He would never bring Anne along though, would he? He didn't think he should inquire any further though as Anne seemed less than thrilled at the topic.

In a desperate attempt to change the subject James asked Anne, "Do you plan on attending the Swann-Turner wedding on Saturday?"

Anne nodded. "I do, indeed. I'm looking rather forward to it in fact; it's about time we have a wedding." She was a big fan of weddings that were real weddings, not this arranged marriage junk. And that's exactly what William and Elizabeth had, true love. Plus all weddings had their fair share of alcohol.

Now it was the Commodore's turn to know what Anne was thinking. "Never fear Mistress Reynolds, I will be watching your alcohol intake."

She sighed frustrated, "I can assure you Commodore I have not gotten drunk since I've had children."

James smirked. "Well, I'm not going to give you the chance Mistress Reynolds." He said as he stood up. "Now, if you'll excuse me I have some business at the docks to attend to." And with that he left Mistress Reynolds to go see what her son was up to.


	4. Meet Mister Pardel

Author's note: Hopefully, I can make up for the last chapter which was rather dull in this one. Which I'm having a writers block with but I know exactly what I want to happen in this chapter. Weird, eh? I also noticed that I have an usual amount of dialogue in this story, can't say I appreciate it much so I'll try to add in less dialogue in future chapters. This is also my longest chapter so far coming in at over 1,500 words.

Disclaimer: Don't own it; wish I owned James though… I wonder how much he costs.

--

"Elizabeth," A very proper looking Jack said trying to get the new Brides attention away from Will whom she was talking and chatting with merrily. "Who's that?"

"Who?" Elizabeth said snapping out of her love-sick trance. "Oh," Elizabeth said after she caught sight of who Jack was asking her about. "That would be Anne Reynolds," she looked at Jack. "Owns a large estate, it's beautiful, and boasts what are probably the best views of the ocean in the whole town. She went to great lengths to assure that the house was placed on the best location with numerous balconies facing towards the ocean."

Jack raised a brow and shifted his gaze back to Anne. "I wonder why she did that." He mused to himself out loud.

"Most people say it's because she always wanted to see when her husband was coming back into port, trader." Will commented not letting the conversation stay between just the two of them. "But I've seen her out there more often now then ever before, and Mister Reynolds died recently. Can't say that I ever found out why, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "Commodore Norrington said that he knew, but he did not believe that he was at liberty to discuss it at the moment, and that if I was curious I had to speak to Mistress Reynolds about it myself."

"Well if you'll excuse me, Elizabeth, Will, I think I have to go introduce myself to Mistress Reynolds." Jack said standing up and heading in the way of the woman who was casually talking to the Commodore.

It was clear to Jack that James new exactly who he was, even through his disguise as Marcus Pardel, but wasn't arresting him out of kindness to the Turner's. Jack smiled slightly at James. "May I have a word with this young lady, Commodore Norrington?"

Jack had no clue as to what he had done to merit the look that the Commodore had given him; he knew James did not like him after all he was a pirate, but if looks could kill Jack would be six feet under right about now. "Yes, you may Mister Pardel." And with that James walked off in a dignified but annoyed manner.

Jack watched as Anne looked him up and down in a questioning manner. "Yes?" She said finding his eyes. She knew them, from another life perhaps, but they were as familiar to her as the back of her hand.

"Well, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I couldn't dance with such a beautiful woman." Jack said extending his hand out. "That is if you wouldn't mind bestowing upon me such an honor, Mistress Reynolds."

"Wait, how do you know my name?" Anne asked a bit worried that this stranger would know her name.

Jack smiled. "Elizabeth and Will." And with that he sent a glance accompanied by a smirk in their direction.

Anne seemed to realize that Jack couldn't be all bad, if he was on a first name basis with the Turner's. But then again his appearance was only proper to a certain extent. He wasn't wearing a powdered wig over his almost black hair which was pulled back at the nape of his neck with a black ribbon, and he walked, differently. Anne couldn't explain the difference, but she certainly saw it. On the other hand the man could be so rich he could practically make his own rules. Either way she decided to accept Jack's hand and set her champagne glass down on the nearest table. "However, I wish to know your name."

"Marcus Pardel," He said as he pulled her away from the wall gently. Jack led her out to where several other couples had chosen to dance, including the bride and groom. In one swift motion his free hand was on her waist, Jack soon felt her arm rest stiffly on his shoulder. The two, no more than a few seconds after, came into a perfect step with each other.

Anne looked into those all too familiar eyes again, and narrowed hers. "Who are you really Mister Pardel?" She asked, seeming to know that 'Marcus Pardel' was a cover.

"Why Mistress Reynolds what ever are you talking about?" He said taking a step closer to her as they took another perfectly unison step. Jack was being his usual old self deciding he would very much like to charm Anne into his bed for a night, or any bed he could get her into for that matter, he wasn't all too picky.

Anne's eyes narrowed even further. But a few moments later they returned to normal size, perhaps she was just being questioning because of her husband's death. She decided that it was a good enough explanation for her, and tried to enjoy Mister Pardel's company. "So, Mister Pardel what exactly is your profession?"

"Plantation owner," was Jack's amazingly quick reply as though he had rehearsed it many times. He only hoped that the woman didn't pick up on that, she seemed a bit too observant not to pick up on it, but then again she was a wealthy woman, what had she ever had to observe when it came to human speech?

Anne furrowed her brows. "I see," She knew there was defiantly profit in the business. This meant that Mister Pardel could very well be rich enough to decide whether or not he was going to wear a wig. "May I ask you one more question though, Mister Pardel?"

"Certainly Milady." He said with a smile.

"Haven't quite gotten your land legs have you, Mister Pardel?" Jack couldn't say he fancied the twisted smile on her lips.

"I would imagine not," Jack said now honestly afraid that this woman knew a bit too much about him already. He was Captain Jack Sparrow though, and he certainly wasn't going to let some woman blow his cover. "I've been at sea for awhile; it's a long journey from the America's to here."

Anne shook her head. "I'm sure of that, Mister Pardel." She smiled slightly. "But those legs are not from just a week or two of travel, they're the legs of someone who travels by sea often and is on land very little." George had the same walk when he came home, except his was a little less noticeable giving Anne the impression that Mister Pardel had an 'off' way of walking anyways.

While the two were talking they had stopped moving, and they never thought about it, or how their hand had managed to slip back to their sides.

Elizabeth noticed this and smirked. "Wouldn't that be a match?" She thought to herself. Jack and Anne, the two looked comical together even with Jack looking all prim and proper.

"And what makes you so knowledgeable on the subject, Mistress Reynolds?" He asked.

Anne scowled, why did everyone have to wonder why she knew so much about sea travel? Her husband was a merchant for God sakes! She had read books, talked to him, hell she had even been on a ship or two in her life. And Jack was the straw that broke the camel's back.

"Now listen here," She said her voice in a low growl taking a step forward, so there faces were now an inch away. She was the same height as Jack, but at the moment her anger probably made her seem three feet taller. "I know just as much about sea travel as any body in this room does. And I'll be damned if you can find someone who knows more." It was a good thing her voice hadn't raised any higher because she wasn't sure that she wanted everyone in the room to hear her 'moment.' Instinctively Anne stepped back and clasped her hand over her mouth.

Jack's eyes widened, at her outburst but then narrowed. Now, why would a proper woman say such a thing? The answer; a proper woman wouldn't unless she was just in a terribly foul mood. He assumed that could be it, but Jack was pretty sure that behind her hand she was thinking of saying something else even fouler.

Anne dropped her hand from her face. She decided that it would be wise to leave now and relax a bit before sleeping. Leaving Jack she wished the bride and groom a happy marriage, and walked away from the event.

After arriving almost at her front gate something felt off to Anne, she turned around to see Mister Pardel following behind her. "What do you want?" She hissed her voice like venom.

Jack cringed slightly. "The truth, you give me the truth, and I give you the truth. Do we have an accord?" He said reaching out a hand.

"We have an accord," She said shaking his hand. Not exactly knowing what kind of 'truth' this man wanted to hear. Thinking upon she realized agreeing to his deal may have been a stupid move on her part, although he would never know if she did lie. She turned around to open the large iron gates, a task she didn't usually have to do herself but all the same she managed.

Under the squeaking of the gates he could have sworn Anne had muttered "Sparrow." Under her breath, but now he knew that he was just imagining things. He occupied his mind by looking at the large house which did seem like on the back side it had amazing views of the ocean. Mister Reynolds' trade must have been very profitable the white house wasn't near as large as some of the places, but it was a comfortable two stories from what Jack could see, and was on a great bit of land. It almost made him want to be on land again, almost. After all it would take more than a nice house and a good bit of land to ground the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow.

Anne looked back at Jack. "Follow me, Mister Pardel."

--

Follow up A/N: James didn't tell Elizabeth how Mister Reynolds died because of her being on good terms with Sparrow. Just in case someone didn't pick that up.


End file.
